


Need To Feel You

by cadkitten



Category: Titans (TV 2018)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Armpit Kink, Casual Sex, Condoms, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Held Down, Magic, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Play, Not-so-casual Sex, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Touch-Starved, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, mental freedom, powerful ladies, woman in control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 00:56:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16733970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: Dick's good at running, he always has been. What terrifies him is the prospect of staying put. And yet... here he is, coming back again and again.





	Need To Feel You

**Author's Note:**

> Massive Titans spoilers up in here for everything starting at S1E5. Even the notes after this are. There's your warning!
> 
> I have some _feelings_ about that DickKori scene in Titans. Like _holy shit_ yeah, some feelings. As in, wow, for showing basically nothing that scene is one of the hottest things I've ever seen in TV or film. I re-watched it like five (okay... I lie, more like ten) times and I finally figured it out. There's this truth to it. The look on his face, the way they're both so mutual about it, the power-shift in the touches that just isn't normally what we see. It's _hot_.  
> There's so much I could say about Titans and how much I love it, I could go on forever. The characters are wonderful, the presentation is everything I've ever wanted. God... I'm in love.  
> Beta: sakuraame  
> Song[s]: "Fingertips" by Kita Klane

As it turned out, Kori was pretty much the only thing Dick could think about each night. Usually he was pretty good about the whole casual sex aspect of things, about just moving on and taking whatever had happened as it was and never longing for more. It wasn't something he'd ever done consciously, it was just a part of who he was, who Bruce and his own parents had helped shape him to be. Always on the move and then always trying to hide who he _really_ was. It all added up to the same thing: don't get too close.

By the sixth night, Dick sat himself down and forced the circus of his mind to mellow out enough for him to truly think. He stared at his hands, clasped between his knees, and he contemplated why he couldn't stop thinking about her.

Factually, it seemed easy enough. He'd been alone for too long and he had always been a very tactile sort of person. Dick enjoyed touch and contact, coupling with someone gave him both. He liked waking up in someone's bed and feeling them warm beside him - something he hadn't had with Kori and, reasonably, wouldn't have been able to given the night they'd had after that. 

He reigned his mind back in and offered up another fact. The sex had been _fantastic_. He could count the number of times he'd had truly good sex on one hand and he knew if they'd ended up staying the night in the same room, it definitely would have shoved the present number one out of its winning slot and taken over. 

Tipping his head back, he let himself imagine it, imagine Kori in his bed, Kori spread out under him, Kori and the way she'd moaned his name... and then Kori in the morning, all sleep fogged and beautiful. He imagined running his hand through her hair and kissing her despite morning breath, he imagined whispered little intimate words and empty promises they'd never keep. Dick's heart ached; a very physical pain as he thought of never seeing her again, of running away from her like he did everyone else. 

He shoved himself off his bed and went to stand in front of the mirror, staring at himself as he planted his palms on the desk positioned beneath it and leaned hard on the wood. He had to get a grip, had to cut this off at the knees before it became one more thing he couldn't control. He wanted to look away, to peel his gaze from the mirror in front of him, but he didn't. Rather, he kept his eyes on himself, forced his mind to work on unwinding his feelings toward Kori and began yanking at the strands that connected them, trying desperately to peel them away like he always did. With his parents it had taken longer, been more painful. With Bruce it was still a festering open wound that sucked at his chest and left him running scared. It would heal given time, just as the wound left by his parents had healed. 

He bowed his head, took in a shuddering breath, and let himself focus on Bruce instead. If nothing else, it'd take away the longing for Kori to grace him with her presence again. The pain always won in the end anyway.

***********

It turned out he could only forget what he wanted for so long. He ran and he failed to keep running. He came back and she was still there, though the look in her eyes was darker when they watched one another. He could see the pain he'd inflicted and it ate at him like a virus. He could feel the static cling of his actions following him around; she didn't even need to look at him for him to understand he'd fucked up. He hadn’t _meant_ to run this time; it was just who he was, how he'd always been, and really, he had a fear of commitment a mile wide.

The instant they'd brought up a team, he'd lost it and bailed. He'd been part of a team before, still had all the freshly reopened wounds from how easily he'd been replaced within that team. There were gaps in his emotional armor and he didn't know how to shore them up without time and distance. He felt open and agonized, like roadkill that hadn't quite made the kill part of the status yet. He ran from help because it felt more like the answer than letting people in again did. 

It was with shame that he settled across the table from the others. Their unspoken accusations burned holes in him, their ire all entirely justified and taken to heart. He swallowed it down like the jagged pill it was, squared his shoulders, and faced the problem at hand instead of his emotions about it. 

_Don't let it affect you._

The words echoed hauntingly in his mind, bearing a voice he never wanted to hear again, ripping open old and new wounds alike inside him. He felt like a child again, like the boy who'd lost his parents and couldn't breathe at night. Like the boy who'd lashed out and wanted to kill because he _could_. He tucked his shaking hands down between his thighs and settled on scowling at the empty coffee mug in front of him. Let the world think he was everything he wasn't; let them believe him to be hard and cruel and devoid of the deep-seated hurt that he had.

_You failed us._

More words welling up out of his darkness, spilling over into his psyche. The fact that these bore his own voice, his own haunting emotion, his own self-hatred and lack of forgiveness - well, that made it all that much harder to ignore. He felt dizzy with it, sick in ways he couldn't identify. This, too, was why he'd run. He knew psychological damage when he saw it; hell, he'd lived with the ripening epitome of it as his partner for years. 

His fists clenched under the table and he forced his own voice louder inside his mind, the one he created now, not the whispers of his trauma. 

_Maybe I did. It was never intentional._

The voice screamed over his and he felt the strike of his own staff against his body in a way that actually lurched him forward in his seat. He jolted upright and shoved out of the booth. He wouldn't run, he couldn't. Not when so much was at stake, but he could hide. He could hide how he was breaking, force it all away.

The bathroom was a single room kind of deal and by the time a young woman and her kid exited, he had a hand clamped over his mouth to keep from screaming and only barely had his tears contained. The voices were a chorus now, telling him Jason got things he didn't, telling him Bruce never loved him, whispering that he'd caused his parent's deaths and that he would only be the cause of so many more. They screamed at him that he was a killer with a cop badge, a disgrace to the name. They jeered and taunted and made him feel like a haze of madness had settled in over him.

He stumbled into the room, the woman rushing away, and it was only barely that he didn't lash out when a warm hand closed around his shoulder and helped steer him toward the counter. The door clicked shut behind them and it took all of his focus to see Raven through his madness. The one thing he _did_ know was that this didn't look right. She was a kid and he was presently a crazed lunatic. There would be only one assumption coming out of this by anyone that didn't know them. Panic welled up inside him and he shook his head, trying and failing to tell her to go, to leave him be, that he was dangerous but he wouldn't be labeled as something worse than he was.

Her hands settled on either side of his head, fingertips pushing into his hair. "Do you trust me?"

Tears spilled down his face and he just closed his eyes and nodded. He felt the shift in the room, understood it for what it was, and then there was another voice inside his mind, whispering to all the others that they were wrong, pushing away aggravating thoughts he'd been unable to rid himself of for months or years at a time. He could sense them dissolving or being abruptly cut off and with it he began to feel the edges of his usual self sliding back into place. 

He opened his eyes and watched as the black lines crept back toward Raven's eyes, as her vision cleared and she relaxed. They remained there, staring at one another in complete silence for long enough Dick wondered if it was okay to be like this. To be this _calm_.

"If you trust me, don't go digging for the voices again. I've only walled them up." She held her hands out between them and slowly rotated her wrists, as if examining her fingers. "I took your pain from you, though... I'm not sure where it's going, but I took it."

Dick bowed his head, reached up to wipe the tears from his cheeks and took in a shuddering breath. She'd given him the closest thing he could equate to safety; taken away his fear of losing control and then controlled it all for him. 

It was all he could do to whisper, "Thank you," and seeing her tentative smile in return was worth it.

***********

Night came and they found another place to stay, this one free of Bruce's influence and hopefully free of meddling psychopaths. Dick once again sat alone in his room. When the thoughts of Kori rolled back into his mind, he accepted them for what they were: longing. He only wanted to be close to someone and he'd always done that with sex. He didn't imagine that would change any time soon.

Pushing himself up from the lone chair, he went to open his bag, pulling out everything he needed for his shower. It was almost blindly that he worked through what he needed to do; through cleaning his body and then washing his hair, through brushing his teeth and combing his hair. He dried himself and slung the towel back around his hips just as a knock sounded on the door. 

Hope leapt into his heart and he had to grab hold of it to stifle it, strangled it hard enough he was frowning by the time he got to the door and checked to see who it was. Kori stood on the other side and she held up the glass container of Tequila so he could see. His heart relaxed and he opened the door without hesitation.

She stepped into the room and he swallowed down his emotions, instead putting on his best dazzling smile and gesturing between his towel and the tequila bottle. "Becoming a habit."

He closed and locked the door behind her, followed her toward his bed. She sat and pulled the round cork from the top, taking a swig right from the glass and then holding it out to him. Here, he hesitated. Not because he didn't want this - he did - but because he was afraid he wanted it too much. Half a breath later he had the bottle in hand, tipped it back, and drank from it. It burned down his throat, spread fire in his veins. He took another gulp and righted the bottle, handing it back to Kori.

"Chasing something away?"

He sighed, took a seat beside her and pushed his hand back through his damp hair. "All the time." He owed her this at least, the smaller answers he could actually give. 

"Not me." It wasn't a question and, yet, Dick felt compelled to answer it anyway.

"Not you."

"But running... you do that."

"I've always done that." Dick sighed, tipped his head back and wondered how much more he could give tonight. How much more would he be able to let out before everything he'd ever been trained for kicked in and he shut down. Before he shut her down and pushed her out of his life.

"Tell me what you need, Dick."

Here, the war began. He could tell her the truth: that he wanted it to be like last time, but more. He wanted the mind-blowing sex and he wanted her to stay. Or he could tell her he didn't need anything and feel like the empty echo of a man he'd thought loved him like a son. 

The choice was easy when he thought of it like that.

"You. The whole night and the morning." The words didn't cut the way he thought they would, didn't hold the weight of the world in the manner he'd expected. Instead, he felt lighter for having said them at all.

Kori passed the alcohol back and Dick just leaned over to place it on the floor beside the bed. He sort of hoped this was becoming a thing. 

Her fingertips slid up along his arm and he didn't stop the immediate reaction to it. He shifted to lean back on one arm, allowed the long line of his throat to be revealed, sucked in a quiet breath as her hand ghosted over it. He needed this more than he needed air; more than he'd needed anything in a long, long time. His eyelids fluttered closed and he gave her his trust, allowing her hand to lightly grip and slide down the column of his throat. Long painted nails provided the barest sensation as they traced his collarbone to his shoulder. Her hand paused at his bicep, gripped and lightly squeezed the muscle and Dick actually _moaned_. He didn't mean to, it just felt so good he couldn't help it.

The bed shifted and her touch increased for a moment before her weight settled astride his lap. He opened his eyes and gazed up at her, utterly unable to mask all of his emotions. He knew he was laid bare before her: his every want, every deep-seated need on display for her to read if she so chose. 

She leaned in and their lips ghosted over one another, the whisper of a touch that didn't complete. It left his breath shuddering, his heart in a frantic dance, his blood on fire. He followed and she gripped the back of his hair, fingers curling into the short hair and holding him in place just out of reach of her mouth. They said nothing and Dick didn't pry himself away from it. In a way, he marveled at how easy it was to turn over control to her this time. Last time he'd been overwhelmed with desire, had needed in a way that left him desperate to move things along. This time he felt like his every breath needed to be orchestrated by her decisions.

He watched the slow smile that curved her lips and gasped when their lips finally met, her tongue slicking along his lips. He yielded to her easily, allowed her the access her tongue asked permission for. Her hand tightened in his hair as she sank down more fully onto his lap and began to rock them against one another. His arousal began to grow, heat pooling between his legs and starting to make itself known with each movement. Soon, he was moving with her, gasping between kisses, moaning when she moved her lips to his jaw and then down the column of his neck, teeth lightly grazing, tongue flicking. 

Dick was coming undone beneath her and he just let it happen, let himself get what he needed from it. Her kisses whispered over his collarbone and down further, across his chest as she pushed him back on the bed and followed, her body sliding lower onto his thighs. Her lips closed around a nipple and he buried his hands in her thick curls, held on as lightly as he could as she ravished him. His toes curled and he _whined_ before she let up and moved on her way. Her hand captured his wrist and tugged his fingers from her hair, pressed his arm over his head and leaned down to kiss a slow path up his side all the way to his armpit. Her mouth sealed against the skin there, her tongue lightly working over the sensitive area until Dick bucked and moaned, his hips working against her abdomen, his arousal too great to contain with what was happening.

He'd never thought of himself as having as many erogenous zones as she seemed to be finding, but he could find no complaint in it either. She sucked the skin at the juncture of arm and torso, licked a path back to his nipple and gave it a good nip before turning her attention to his other side, releasing one wrist to capture the other. 

By the time she worked up into his armpit this time, he had his heels dug into the mattress and was outright rutting against her. He was a damn mess and he knew it; but he was also garnering so much more pleasure from this than he'd ever thought possible. Not only was this the best sex he'd ever had, but they weren't even _done_ yet. He was on fire and flying free. He both wanted to cum and wanted to stay like this forever, teetering on the edge of bliss. He couldn't think, couldn’t exist outside of what she was doing.

Dick was entirely helpless in her grasp and he loved every second of it.

She sat up, shifting to settle astride his lap, letting him keep rutting up against her as she brought his wrist to her mouth and pressed her teeth to the sensitive flesh. Her tongue swiped over the skin again and again, stringing Dick higher with every pass, arching his hips from the bed until he was bowed and trembling, every breath a struggle, every thought obliterated.

Her teeth pressed harder for a moment and then his arm was falling back to the bed and she was shifting on his lap. He gasped when the towel was moved and suddenly he was in direct contact with her heat. Some small part of his mind reminded him that he needed protection before sinking deep inside that welcoming warmth. He almost whined, bit it back, and instead forced his eyes open to look for what he needed.

Kori's fingertips pressed to his cheek, brought his gaze back to her and she smiled, lifting up off his lap just enough to get her other hand under and grasp him. She gave him a few solid strokes before resting him against her inner thigh. Her touch disappeared and he heard the sound of a condom opening. He relaxed instantly, sinking back into the space she'd created for him in their shared moment, allowing himself the mindlessness of it as her hands fitted him with the thin barrier. 

His cock pressed back against her heat and he grasped the bedsheets tight in his fists as she rubbed it against her. Her hand cupped him, holding him still as she began to rock his cockhead against her clit. He shivered, his head arching back. His nipples were hard, aching, and he longed for her touch in places he'd never considered before her. His own hands came up to play with his nipples, rolling and pinching them and in a fit of absolute need, he slid one hand up under his own arm and pressed there, rubbing as she slid him into her heat and rocked down on him until he was buried to the hilt. 

Arousal spiraled through him and he pressed harder. A desperate sort of sound escaped him. It just wasn't the same as her mouth had been.

Fingers wrapped around his wrists, untangled him from himself and pressed them above his head. She shifted almost entirely off of his cock and leaned down to kiss along his arm and then up into the hollow where she pressed open mouthed sloppy kisses, her tongue dragging across his flesh and lighting up his nerve endings. His hips jerked up, burying him inside her and she made an approving sound against him. 

Surrendering to it, Dick braced his feet and began to thrust, reveling in the combined pleasure; allowing the pull of arousal to take him under. She kept his hands locked in her grip, alternated between helping him fuck her and leaning in to blow his damn mind with her mouth in all the most sensitive places. He fluctuated between letting her ride him and thrusting up into her so needily he couldn't stop any of his own whines or half-voiced pleas. 

He started to peak and there was nothing he could do to stop it, her heat plunging down around him, her mouth sealed against one wrist, the other pinned to the bed. His thighs strained and his back arched. He held his breath and then groaned the last of his air out as it hit him all at once. His body seized and he managed a half-choked, "Kori," as he began to cum. His mouth opened and his head fell back. His eyes rolled back in his head, his toes curled as he filled the condom with his very needed release.

When he finally collapsed back to the bed, a trembling mess, she slid off his lap and knelt at his side. Her hand guided his fingers to her clit, remained long enough to show him how she wanted it, and then she was leaning over him, holding the condom on his still-hard cock with one hand, rapidly stroking him with the other. 

It was too much and not enough all at the same time. His body tried to operate on two levels, one determined to do a good job for her, the other nearly frantic to get her to stop touching his sensitive cock. He leaned up enough to see the wicked gleam in her eye and he flopped back with a groan, giving in and arching his hips, begging silently for the last bit he needed to make it _enough_. 

He stroked her clit, rubbed over it and then took it between his fingers and stroked it like he would the head of his prick. Her hips canted toward him and he kept doing it, watched the strain come into her movements, felt her grip tighten on his length. His cock flexed and he forgot how to breathe and then her mouth was around him, sucking his cock through his cum-filled condom and he thought he couldn’t possibly know more pleasure than this. 

She groaned around him, her hips snapping forward and he slid two fingers up inside to feel her spasm around them, his thumb lightly circling her clit as she sucked him so hard he had no choice but to cum. The cry he let out was inhuman and the orgasm behind it was earth-shattering. He strained and jerked and shook his way through it, nearly sobbing when she pulled up and took the condom off. The air around him was too much and he panted when she so much as put her hand on his chest. Every muscle trembled and his breathing wouldn't even out.

Kori had blown his mind.

As he started to come back down, he became aware that she was slowly stroking his abdomen and his sides, that she was gluing him back together without words and he closed his eyes, thankful for it. He finally felt himself start to soften and he relaxed with it, no longer teetering on some unknown edge that she'd brought him to. 

Once he'd caught his breath, he rolled his head to the side to watch her, found her quiet, contemplative smile in place, and he wet his lips before offering a soft, "Wow."

She laughed, laying down beside him and propping her head on her palm, elbow supporting her. She gave him a little bemused look. "Is that all? Just wow?"

"Uh," he swallowed against the dryness in his mouth and allowed himself the truth of this smile. "Holy _shit_?"

Her arm snaked over him and he didn't hesitate to roll toward her, curl up against her side and capture one of her legs between his thighs. He settled there and closed his eyes as she pressed little kisses against the top of his head. It felt good to give in.

It felt better to be cared _about_.


End file.
